Her Love and Her Beloved
by Anyjen
Summary: Doumeki Haruka finds an abandoned kitten and gives it to his bedridden grandson to keep him company through his illness. This is her story.


**Well, here I am again. **

**Be warned that this story is not like the others I have uploaded in that it is considerably sad, although not to such a degree that it would be considered angst. It's the fluffy kind of sad.**

**Many thanks to my faithful and hard-working betas Beboots and Product Of A Sick Society for giving this story a look and particularly to Product Of A Sick Society, who encouraged me to take this kitten from where it was frolicking with my plot bunnies and bring her to life.**

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Her Love and Her Beloved

She was tiny when her Love found her. She was tiny, and she was weak, and she was sickly.

She had been left behind because nobody had wanted her, but her Love had found her.

He had picked her up with careful hands that smelled of wood and incense and held her against his warm chest, and murmured soft and tender words that made her stop shivering in fear and cold and go to sleep.

Her Love was kind, and he was careful, and he had taken care of her. He had fed her, and cradled her, and comforted her. Soon she wasn't so tiny or so weak or so sickly anymore, and he had presented her to her Beloved.

Her Beloved was, just like she had been, too tiny, and too weak, and too sickly. He was, in fact, too weak to lift his head from his pillow, too sickly to breathe properly most of the time.

She would curl up against him then, and she would purr, and her Beloved would breathe a little easier every time she did, so she did it often.

Other times, she would curl up in her Love's lap. He had the most wonderful lap, ever warm, ever welcoming. He would never push her away, instead he would sit in the sun and stay still, and he would use his nice-smelling hands to scratch her behind the ears, and she would purr and he would murmur soft and tender words that made her sleep.

She was there when her Beloved was draped in silk, and little by little he stopped being so tiny, so weak and so sickly. He wouldn't stay for long with his head in his pillow anymore, so she couldn't curl up against him and purr for as long as she had before.

Instead, he would move slowly and carefully to where her Love always was, sitting in the sun, and her Beloved would sit next to him. She would curl up in her Love's lap, then, and he would scratch her behind the ears and she would purr as his Love spoke soft words that her Beloved would listen raptly to.

She didn't know what those words were about, but they were soft, and tender, and they would always make her feel safe and loved and wanted and would always make her sleep.

But nothing lasts forever. She could tell that her Love was growing weak with time, and soon, all too soon, he was too weak and too sickly to sit in the sun with her in his lap anymore.

He would often be too weak to lift his head from his pillow then, too sickly to breathe properly, and she would curl up next to him, and she would purr, and he would breathe a little easier.

Her Beloved would curl up on his other side, and they would then exchange soft words, tender words, that always made her sleep.

Then one day, when she woke up, her Love wasn't breathing anymore, and her Beloved had his head buried in her Love's shoulder, and he wasn't breathing properly, but for a different reason than when he was little, and weak, and sickly, and no matter how she purred she couldn't make him breathe any easier.

It was not long after her Love had gone that she found her Beloved sitting in the sun, and his lap had looked warm and welcoming, so she had curled up in it and let her Beloved scratch her behind the ears, murmuring soft and tender words that made her sleep.

Her Beloved had long since stopped being tiny, and weak, and sickly, and he was no longer draped in silk. But no matter how big, and strong, and healthy he became, he would always find time to sit in the sun and let her curl up in his lap, and she would purr, and he would scratch her behind the ears.

And he would whisper the soft and tender words she loved, and she would fall asleep and dream of nice-smelling hands, and a warm chest, and a warm lap, and the knowledge that here, in the warmth, she was safe, and she was loved, and she was wanted.

And that was all that she ever needed.

The end

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**There you go. That was short, wasn't it?**

**Please remember that feedback of any kind is highly appreciated, cherished, and used for future inspiration.  
**

**Well, this story was actually born when I was working on a new one I'm writing as a request for Product Of A Sick Society, in which this furry little thing actually meets Watanuki... I'll leave it to your imagination what happens then, but I'll tell you that if this story is about the sweet but sad things concerning this little ball of fur, that one is about the sweet but funny things. What do you think? Would like to read about that? :)**


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